Truth Runs Deep
by BeauteousCupcake
Summary: A solitary moment of realization for Damon has him recalling the feelings he had for someone... will they be reciprocated


There were moments when I'd felt something, whether it was a look that seemed to linger too long, or when we'd say goodbye drunkenly from the Grill or here. A warmth in the pit of my stomach that only he seemed to surface in me, I found myself finding stupid reasons to go over to his loft rather than be in the vastness of the boarding house, side by side the latest bottle of cognac procured from the cellar settled between us. It was ironic that I learnt more about what I was from a hunter in those months than I had in the decades of actually existing as a vampire. I also learnt one thing I had never expected to ever find out about myself.

I couldn't get Ric out of my head, the way he smelt the mix of soap and cologne that lingered on his skin and shirts, how when he was relaxed, he would lie back against the couch we would be on practically offering his unshaven neck to my teeth and touch. I would close my eyes, book laid on my lap forgotten with my mind filled with images and thoughts of the man I called best friend. Of grazing my teeth along his pulsating vein, his hot breath against my hair as I dipped lower to claim skin and flesh in blunted fangs. I could envision his hands on my back pulling me to him, the air thick with need for one another.

Swallowing thickly. I turned on my heel to stare at the liquor cabinet trying to remember what I was doing the decanter heavy in my hand drawing me back to the present and the emptiness of the room to the fact my own footsteps echoed over oak flooring. I was getting trapped in too many thoughts, and thoughts I didn't want to have there. Ric was a friend, a good friend, one I didn't deserve, but there was that smile he had when a joke we only knew was shared. That darkening in his eyes when he was tired after a long day, how he didn't care what he wore but always looked good, swallowing the burning amber nectar, I cursed my mind. It wasn't as if I could blame it on a fever or something that simple, I had nowhere to deflect these feelings too, I had no one and nothing but myself to blame and take account for this. With a curse of several words the tumbler exploded into a rainbow of glass and fire against the stone my anger at being helpless surfacing, then I heard it. The soft step of a man unsure as to what he was walking into, turning slowly, I met his eyes. The curiosity that I admired in him was there, along with the telling signs of a man who had been drinking too much like me.

"Damon?"

Nodding slowly, I took a breath I walked over to him, each footstep we both took bringing us to the middle of the room, stopping when there was barely enough room between us for air, heavy breaths fell from my lips not trusting my voice at this moment. I'd spoken too much inside my head as it was. I wasn't a man of words, I was a man of action. Hesitantly, I brought my hand up to his startled face, callous fingers catching his defined jaw, my thumb brushing across his lips. Startled eyes met mine but the calm serenity of trust was there, letting me explore something I needed to do. Moving just that one step closer, I became aware of heavy hands on my hips, of the dip in his head at my touch, whatever I was feeling within me, lust, curiosity, and need. Was reciprocated in that one moment, every moment of laughter, drunken idiocy and deep soul searching for truth and protection for others had led to us here.

My tongue slipped across my lips, tasting my own fear and Ric's. I held his eyes in a strong gaze, my smile growing at every heavy breath he took the warmth welcomed on my skin. His eyes disappeared beneath closed lids when I drew both hands to his face and guided our mouths together, my tongue finding its home in between his partially opened lips and I felt that sense of calm. Drawn together, the air between us gone as we became flush to each other. No words were to be uttered, the only sound was a dulcet moan from within my chest at tasting him against my tongue and lips. My fingers slid into his hair, and his into the tightness of my jeans pockets, each unsure kiss growing into something akin to the flames in the hearth.


End file.
